


Marry Me

by akane47



Category: Sungkyunkwan Scandal
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akane47/pseuds/akane47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Gu Yong-ha's proposal. A missing moment (of sorts) from "Two For the Price of One."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marry Me

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Gu Yong-ha belongs to the creators of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_. The title of this story comes from a song by FT Island.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** I'm struggling with the latest chapter of _Two For the Price of One_ (Meeting the Parents is very serious business, y'all!), but I hope you will enjoy this one-shot about the imaginary proposal that Iseul describes to Jung-hwa in Chapter 9. This was supposed to be my update for February, but sadly that didn't happen. Better late than nothing, I guess!

  
**MARRY ME**

__

“Master Gu asked you to marry him right away?” Jung-hwa asked eagerly. “How did he ask you? Was it so very, very romantic?”  
“I suppose it was,” Iseul replied evasively, throwing in a small smile to try and make it convincing.  
“So what did he do exactly?” — Two for the Price of One, Chapter 9  


  
Kim Iseul knew that she probably looked silly, smiling at nothing as she walked down the street, but she didn't care in the least.  
  
She had been looking forward to that day's outing with Gu Yong-ha ever since he suggested it, giving her a reason to be excited amid in an otherwise humdrum week. Who wouldn't smile about that?  
  
(Besides, she thought with a giggle, what living, breathing woman wouldn't smile when such a handsome young man was seeking your company? It actually made her glad that she never managed to catch Bang Jung-soo's eye; otherwise, she would not have been free to entertain Yong-ha's attentions.)  
  
The young merchant was in the front room of his shop, going over that day's receipts, when she arrived. “Oh, Iseul-ah, you're here already?” he greeted her, looking up with a welcoming smile. “Come in and sit down. I hope you don't mind waiting just a little while longer.”  
  
“No, not at all,” she assured him, smiling back and sinking onto a plump crimson cushion. She, of all people, could understand the need to keep careful track of one's finances. “Take as much time as you need.”  
  
“Have you eaten? Would you like a snack while you wait?”  
  
“I had some fruit and tea before my last lesson. Please, go on with your work and don't worry about me.”  
  
“If you're sure,” he replied. “I'll try not to take too long.” Yong-ha then returned to his bookkeeping and Iseul settled down to wait, trying to stay as quiet as possible to keep from distracting him.  
  
As she waited, she amused herself by admiring the decorations arranged artistically around the room. The minhwa she had painted for him was displayed prominently on one wall. It depicted a peacock in full display, the blues and greens of its plumage a striking contrast to the pink and gold of the fan that hung beside it.  
  
However, her eyes couldn't help straying to Yong-ha, who laughed as he pushed away his accounts. “You know, if you don't stop staring at me like that, I'm never going to finish this.”  
  
She felt quite abashed at getting caught staring, but tried not to show it. “Can you blame me?” she bantered back. “You're the most eyecatching thing in this room.”  
  
“That's true,” he agreed, buffing his nails against a purple silk sleeve with a superior air. “But I really am too distracted to do this work now. I've been thinking about talking a walk with you all day. So, rather than keep at this, we should get going.” He began to gather his ledgers into an orderly pile.  
  
“Are you sure? I wouldn't want to keep you from your work.” Perhaps, she thought guiltily, she could offer to run some errands or wait for him elsewhere while he finished his accounting. She could not afford to have any errors, especially costly ones, on her conscience.  
  
“It's nothing I can't put off until tomorrow,” Yong-ha assured her. He rose and held out a hand. “Besides, it will be dark soon. Unless,” he added with an impish smile, “you're stalling on purpose because you want to be alone in the dark with me?”  
  
“Our relationship isn't  _that_  serious, Gu Yong-ha,” she reminded him crisply, but took the offered hand so that he could help her up.  
  
“Not yet,” he corrected with a suggestive little wink.

* * *

Dusk had just begun to fall when they reached the path they had selected for their stroll, a street in the residential part of town. Iseul walked quietly at Yong-ha's side, marveling at how the riotous colors of autumn were slowly fading into muted shades of gray and blue.  
  
“Are you thinking about painting something like this?” he asked her then, breaking the silence.  
  
She nodded. “I usually prefer brighter colors, but this is so peaceful.”  
  
Just then, a breeze blew, sending cold air trickling down her neck despite the fur-lined vest she wore. She shivered, first from the chill and then from the feel of his hand closing around hers. “In that case, we can't let your painting hand freeze,” he explained as he chafed her hand with both of his.  
  
“But I paint with my other hand,” she told him with a laugh.  
  
Without missing a beat, Yong-ha moved to her other side to minister to the correct hand. “Then we must warm up this other hand even more,” he replied, raising it to his lips so that he could kiss the backs of her fingers.  
  
Heat rushed to her face at the bold gesture. “People will see,” she protested, tugging at her hand in a futile attempt to free it.  
  
“What people?” he asked, tightening his hold and tucking her hand in the crook of his arm for good measure. “We're the only ones here.”  
  
“This is a public road. Someone will come along eventually.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And if they see this and get the wrong impression about me, I won't be able to get married.”  
  
“Of course you will,” Yong-ha scoffed. “All you have to do is marry me.”  
  
They both froze in their tracks. An awkward silence fell as Iseul waited for him to tell her that he was just joking—and then she began to grope for a response when he said nothing. In fact, he looked just as surprised as she felt. Should she be the one to laugh and make a joke? she wondered. Perhaps that would lighten the mood; but then again, perhaps not. She knew that she had to say something, but also could not risk saying the wrong thing.  
  
“D-did you... just suggest that I marry you?” she finally managed to ask in a small voice.  
  
It took a few, heart-stopping moments, but his shocked expression gave way to a smile. “Yes,” he replied, sounding more certain with every word. “Yes, I did. I think we should get married. Will you marry me, Kim Iseul?”  
  
 _He wouldn't ask me—twice!—if he didn't mean it,_  Iseul thought. Even though they were said to be living in a “new Joseon,” marriage was not a thing to be taken lightly. Something flared to life inside her, sending an answering smile spreading across her own face.  
  
“Yes,” she told him. “Yes, I'll marry you.”  
  
They laughed as they looked into each other's eyes. “This wasn't quite how I planned to propose,” Yong-ha admitted after a while.  
  
“You were  _planning_  to propose to me?”  
  
“I had started thinking about it already,” he admitted frankly. “But didn't have any good ideas yet on how to do it. I wanted to make it more special, instead of just... blurting it out like I did today.”  
  
She smiled up at him and gave his arm a little squeeze. “I thought the way you did it just now was perfect.”  
  
“You did?” he asked, grinning when she nodded. “Well, good. It turned out for the best, then.”  
  
Thus reassured, Yong-ha seemed more content as they resumed their stroll, but it wasn't long before he stopped short again. “You know,” he said, arching an eyebrow at her, “I hear that newly betrothed couples usually seal the deal with a kiss.”  
  
Iseul blushed. “Yes, I've heard that, too.”  
  
With a healthy amount of trepidation, she waited for him to initiate their first kiss and prayed that she didn't make a mess of things. What did the woman do when a man kissed her? Where did she put her hands? And then....  
  
“Are you waiting for me to kiss you?” she asked when he didn't make a move.  
  
“I don't see any other women around,” Yong-ha replied, making a show of glancing up and down the street. Everyone had hurried home ahead of the growing cold and darkening skies, so they were virtually alone. “Even if there were, shouldn't my wife-to-be be the one to kiss me?”  
  
“Shouldn't the man be the one to kiss the woman?”  
  
“I think that women should feel free to take the lead in these things on occasion,” he replied reasonably. “It's only fair, isn't it? Here, let me make it easy for you.”  
  
Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, lips puckered in comical anticipation. Iseul was tempted to tell him that he looked ridiculous, but she was fairly certain that one didn't say so to a man right after he proposed marriage.  
  
One probably didn't withhold kisses from such a man, either.  
  
Sighing in surrender, she closed the distance between them.  
  
A heartbeat later, Yong-ha's eyes flew open.  _“Ya!”_  he exclaimed indignantly when she stepped away again. “You call that a kiss?!”  
  
Her only response was a giggle as she turned and scurried away.

* * *

He caught up with her in a narrow alley bounded by high walls on either side. “That was not a kiss,” he told her as he adjusted his overcoat, which had become rumpled during his pursuit.  
  
“It was so!” Iseul laughed. “I touched you with my lips.”  
  
“Just barely! We might as well tell our grandchildren that we sealed our betrothal by breathing on each other.”  
  
“Then maybe  _you_  should have taken the lead instead of me,” she retorted. Having her kiss him, instead of the other way around, had been his brilliant idea. Clearly, he hadn't considered all the implications before suggesting it.  
  
He fell silent for a bit, pondering her words, and then chuckled. “Now that I think about it, you're right.”  
  
Perhaps it was the waning daylight playing tricks with her eyes, but there was something about the look in his face that made her catch her breath. She realized then that she, too, apparently had yet to learn about thinking things all the way through before opening her big mouth.  
  
To her mortification, a tiny whimper escaped her when he stepped closer. “Don't be scared,” Yong-ha reassured her, cupping her chin lightly. “I won't hurt you.  
  
“And,” he added, “in the unlikely event that you don't like it, I promise I'll stop.”  
  
Iseul had no time to laugh at the cocky remark, for at that moment he pressed a gentle kiss to one cheek, and then the other. From there, he moved with excruciating slowness to her forehead, then to each eyelid as they fluttered closed, before finally claiming her lips.  
  
Despite her lack of experience, she could tell that she was being kissed by a master. Yong-ha knew just when to tease and when to push boundaries, doing so in such a way that she found herself going a bit farther, lingering a bit longer, than she had intended—without remembering just how she reached that point in the first place.  
  
Soon, she felt rough stone against her back. “Do you want me to stop?” he murmured against her mouth.  
  
“No,” Iseul replied, twining her arms around his neck. She had to remember this, she managed to think. All of this. What he did, what she did, how it felt. She could use this in her art.  
  
“Good.” Yong-ha drew closer, deepening his kiss.  
  
Her heart began to race as one hand traveled upwards from her waist, the very tips of his fingers slipping just underneath her jeogori—

* * *

Iseul's eyes flew open and she sat up, her face flushed with embarrassment and (it must be admitted) something else altogether. She let out a long, drawn-out sigh when she realized that it had all been a dream and she was alone in the silence and shadows of her bedchamber.  
  
However, she thought as she glanced at her worktable, she had to stop working on Hwa-jae's paintings right before going to sleep.


End file.
